Denied
by Fickleberry Fine
Summary: Set after the Season 13 episode 'Justice Denied'. Also a sequel to my own fic, 'Freedom', though it takes place a good few weeks later. And I fully intend to write the fics in between...


Denied

Set after the Season 13 episode 'Justice Denied'. Also a sequel to my own fic, 'Freedom', though it takes place a good few weeks later.

Alex Cabot pulled the cork out of the wine bottle with a satisfying 'pop', smiled to herself as she filled the glass with red wine. She had planned to wait for company before opening the bottle, but one glass to relax after a long day seemed appropriate. The second glass that she had taken from the cupboard in anticipation sat there, and Alex wondered for a second if it was too much to have it ready and waiting. Eventually, deciding that the prop was welcoming rather than presumptuous, she left it and walked over to the couch, pausing by the stereo. Would some soft music be too much? Probably.

It was nice, thought Alex, this giddy anticipation, as she checked her appearance in the mirror. It felt very new and very exciting; the texts and the phone calls and dinners and drinks, culminating in nights spent together that were getting better and better with time and familiarity.

A knock on the apartment door shook Alex from her day-dreaming. She couldn't help the smile that stole across her face, glancing at her watch to find it was earlier than she'd thought.

"You made good ti-" she broke off abruptly.

Olivia stood behind the door, mascara smudged and muddy around her dark eyes, her hair ruffled and a look of such intense worry on her face. As soon as access to the apartment was granted she walked in, relieved to be finally inside. "I'm sorry to bother you, Alex, I just needed…" she stopped with a helpless shrug, leaving Alex wondering what exactly Olivia needed.

"Liv, I… Why are you here?" asked Alex, closing the door to the apartment and guiding Olivia over to the couch, holding her by the elbow and sitting down next to her. Olivia seemed fragile, shaken, and Alex wasn't really sure if this was a situation she wanted to walk in to. Then again, it was Olivia, and Alex could feel an inner hero rising up, longing to help, to save Olivia.

"I just had to come and talk to someone… Someone who would understand… I'm sorry, are you busy?" Olivia looked around, suddenly realising that she'd entered the apartment and sat down, as if she hadn't expected to get this far.

"It's fine. What's the matter?"

Olivia took a few deep gulps. She was here now. Here with a friend who would understand both perspectives. The conflict of interest, the pain at the miscarriage of justice that she'd been the cause of, the ending of a relationship that had been so promising… The mistakes she'd made. Non-disclosure, secrets; burying her head in the sand in the hope that it would all be fine, that she would never have to deal with the commitment or the potential problems.

Alex listened silently to it all, reaching out to touch Olivia's shoulder when she spoke of her guilt, unable to stop the twist in her gut when Olivia spoke of her relationship with David. She had been absent for a few weeks, thought Alex. Just a few weeks of working other cases, of getting involved with something that had taken up more of her time and attention than she'd thought. And now this. This was what had happened to Olivia, and she hadn't been there to see it, to help, to guide her through.

"Oh Liv…" she said quietly, when Olivia had finished. "You did the right thing…"

"When? With David or with Omar? Because it took me eight years to do the right thing with Omar, Alex," Olivia shook her head in disbelief. "Eight years in jail for something he didn't do…" her voice wavered, and she blinked rapidly, trying to slow the tears.

"We all make mistakes, Liv. You did the right thing in the end, that's all you can do."

"And with David… He said we should disclose. I couldn't face it, and now it's too late."

Alex didn't say anything. She couldn't – what could she say that would possibly help Olivia now?

A tear finally broke free, dropped slowly down Olivia's face. Before she realised what she was doing, Alex reached out and wiped it gently away with her thumb, cupping Olivia's face. She made to move her hand away, but Olivia raised her own hand and held it there, slipping her fingers in-between Alex's.

"I should have done the right thing years ago…" she said quietly, looking up at Alex.

"With Omar?" asked Alex, softly.

"No, Alex. With you."

It was like the world stopped. Time grew sluggish. The moment lasted a small eternity. Alex couldn't speak, could hardly breathe. For a second she felt euphoric, then, it all came crashing down. No, no, no… not now, not after years of being denied what she longed for, after so many chances, none of them seen through. Not now, when she was happy, when she was finding happiness with someone else…

And then, just when Alex thought nothing more would ever happen, there was a knock on the door.

A pause.

Another knock.

And realisation came back to Alex, as the world slid back into focus with such intensity that it almost made her sick to her stomach. It was all happening too fast, there was nothing she could do, she had to explain – "Olivia-" she started, hurriedly, her voice coming out too fast, her voice unsteady, but Olivia was looking around, she saw the second wine glass set out on the table, and realisation was coming over her too.

"You were expecting someone else… When you answered the door…" Facts were coming back now, Olivia was piecing things together faster than Alex could explain them, and then, the final twist of the knife: the sound of a key in the lock.

Alex closed her eyes in defeat. She remembered this morning. Rollins lying on the bed, on her stomach, reaching over the side and trying to disentangle her underwear from the pile of swiftly shed clothes. Alex watching her from the doorway of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.

"If you finish earlier, and I'm not here, let yourself in," she'd said, on a whim, tossing Rollins the spare keys.

"You sure?" Rollins had asked, abandoning the search for clothes and sitting up on the bed regardless.

"Yeah," Alex had said. "Saves you going all the way back to yours if I'm a bit late."

Then she'd crossed over to the bed, straddling Rollins' hips and pushing her lightly back on the bed.

"But don't steal anything…" she'd teased, "I know some pretty tough police detectives…"

"Hellooo…" Rollins' voice echoed out in the apartment, as she entered carrying a take-out bag. She stopped, seeing Olivia on the couch, Alex next to her.

Alex jumped up. She could not feel more guilty if she'd tried – like she'd just been caught red-handed. Olivia too, scrambled up, looking between Alex and Rollins in disbelief, shock, and finally something that to Alex seemed to verge on disgust.

"I should go," she muttered, and sped out of the apartment. Rollins watched her go, turned back to Alex.

"What was that?" she asked, her tone a forced calm. "You know what, don't even," she snapped, as Alex cast around for words that would not come. "I always knew I wouldn't be able to compete with Olivia Benson if she ever came knocking. What was that? I feel bad for locking up an innocent man, comfort me Alex!"

"Amanda, please don't-"

"Don't what? Did she tell you how she forced a confession based on a false evidence report? Did she tell you the whole squad is being investigated?"

"She followed her instincts…" Alex tried to put up a defence, cursed herself for doing so – she wanted to side with Rollins, to keep a good thing going, but she couldn't do it, she couldn't just cast Olivia off.

"Yeah? Well I should have followed mine."

And with that, Amanda Rollins turned and walked away, leaving Alex exactly as she'd started; alone in her apartment, longing for company.


End file.
